Complete
by Zion Angel
Summary: He’s been through this cycle before, and she can’t bear to let him go through it again. -- suggested T/P


Title: Complete

Author: ZionAngel

Rating: PG

Length: 1508 words

Summary: He's been through this cycle before, and she can't bear to let him go through it again.

AN: I'm still writing. I promise.

Pepper follows the stairs down to the workshop at 8:00 for Tony's morning briefing. There's nothing unusual on the list today. Some meetings later today – none of extreme importance, so she'll tell him when they really start instead of lying and saying they start an hour earlier than they really do. A couple of conference calls once he's at the office. Requests from Larry King, Oprah, and the CBS evening news for televised interviews – he'll probably say no to them all, as he usually does. A dozen or so requests from major magazines and newspapers for interviews – almost all repeat requests, and almost all doomed for rejection yet again. A few contracts that need signing. Another message to pass along from that Nick Fury guy. She probably won't even bother with that one. That one, she knows with absolute certainty, will receive the same answer as every time before. And, finally, one request which will no doubt have a more fortunate future.

"Good morning, Ms. Potts," he greets her, chipper, the moment her heels make their first click on the concrete floor. "You're looking especially lovely today."

"Good morning Mr. Stark. You sound like you're having a productive morning."

"Indeed I am." He smiles, gesturing to the computer screens, and what appear to be specs for an upgrade of the suit.

"Think you can spare a minute?"

"For my lovely assistant? Two minutes."

She doesn't let him see, but she can't help but smile a little at the flirt. "All right then…"

She goes down her list. He swears he'll be on time to the first meeting – she makes a note in her blackberry to let them know he'll only be twenty minutes late. Larry and Oprah bite the dust in seconds. Time Magazine lasts a full thirty seconds, courtesy of a new spin on the projected article – "genius" and "playboy" would both be prominent in the title, among other things – but soon it dies with the rest. Contracts are signed with the usual flourish on his signature before he heads to the kitchenette to refill his coffee. She decides not to waste either of their time and skips Fury's message. He asks if she wants any coffee, which she declines.

"And one last thing," she says, before he can ask if that's all. He glances at her over the rim of his mug, and starts making his way back. "We got a call from the organizing committee of the Los Angeles Automotive Expo. They're interested in featuring several of your cars in the show - the Audi and the Tesla for the upgrades you've made to them, and the Hot Rod for the classics show."

He slows as she says this, stops just in front of the antique car. Pepper falls silent as she studies his face, sullen and suddenly devoid of the lighthearted humor from just moments before. He's staring at the Hot Rod in front of him, the car his father bought when Tony was just four, the car they worked on together for nearly fifteen years, the car Tony worked on alone for seventeen years more. Pepper pulls in a sharp breath, and tries to decide what to do next.

For months, he's been saying the car is near completion, that there are few more improvements that need to be made. But he's said that before in years past, only to suddenly decide that it's not quite right - that something he's never been able to name is wrong and needs to be fixed - and he guts the car and practically builds it up all over again. She never questioned it in the past. But things between them aren't the same anymore - she knows him better now, knows how much he's changed. And in truth, she actually _cares_ about these little things with him now. And despite her fear at the thought of confronting the subject, she knows it's something she needs to do.

As if on cue, he breaks his silence. "The Audi and the Tesla can go. But you're gonna have to cancel this one. Not show-worthy. And while you're at it, call my supplier and order a new set of parts for the ignition system, it's not functioning right, and -"

The cold tone of his voice is physically torture to hear, and she has to cut him off. "Tony." He stops. Hesitates. He turns to her, a stoic face plastered on as if he thinks he could possibly hide his feelings from her.

Pepper never thought about the why of it before, but now she doesn't need to, as the truth is painfully obvious. She takes a deep breath. "It's okay to be finished, Tony."

He turns away. "I just told you, Potts, it's nowhere near finished."

She sighs, and a fearful little voice in her mind tells her to drop the subject. But she knows what's causing Tony to do this, and the heartache she would feel if she allowed it to continue would simply be too much.

"It's finished, Tony," she says firmly. "Your father's car is finished. _Your_ car is finished. It's perfect."

His shoulders tense visibly. He glances her way, just for a second, before turning his head even farther from her. She steps forward and places a gentle hand on his arm. She's trembling a little, but finds strength in the fact that he didn't dismiss her words.

She doesn't know exactly why he can't bear to be finished with the car after some thirty years working on it. Maybe he thinks he would somehow dishonor his father by finishing the car they began building together. Maybe he worries that he would somehow show up or overshadow his father by doing it. Perhaps this car is the most tangible memory of his father that he has, and he wants to keep holding onto it. Perhaps, in the wake of his radical changes to the company, he wants to honor his father by still doing one thing the way he did. He could simply wish his father was still here to help him put on the final touches. Or maybe, when the car is complete, something inside of him will be completed, too, as if that last little part of him will have to finally accept that his father is gone. And maybe that was something he was never ready for.

Or, knowing Tony, maybe it's a little of everything.

She squeezes his arm a tiny bit. "I never met your dad," she says softly. "But… I think he would want you to finish what he started. I think he'd be _proud_ of you for doing it. I think he'd be proud of the good job you did, and he'd want you to be happy with it, too."

Tony turns his head her way, but doesn't look at her. Beneath her hand, she can fell his muscles gradually relaxing.

"He wouldn't want you to… forget him, but you could never do that, Tony. You haven't. You can't be exactly like your father, but no good parent wants their child to be just like them. And maybe he would be a little thrown off or confused or whatever by you taking over what he left behind and doing it your own way, but I think at the end of the day he'd trust you and be proud of you, and he'd tell you that you did an amazing job. That you built a fantastic car, and that he's proud of you. And he would want you to take pride in it, too."

Tony's eyes are still sullen, but there's something different about the way he stares at the car now. After a few moments, she lets go of his arm, and takes two small steps back. She grants him a few seconds more for quiet contemplation.

"But… if you would like me to tell the organizers that the Hot Rod isn't available for the show, I will do that." She's said her piece - she can only hope he took from it the comfort and permission she intended.

It feels like a very long time before he speaks again, just barely a whisper. "It's okay. They can put it in." His voice is low, and sad, but also relieved, in a way.

Pepper smiles a little. "Okay."

"Thanks, Potts."

She takes the hint, and steps quietly towards the door to give him his privacy. When the glass door has shut behind her, and she's a few steps up the stairs, she looks back. She watches as Tony takes a slow, deep breath, and lets it out. He takes a small sip of coffee. With a sigh, some bit of melancholy leaves his eyes, and he slowly turns around and returns to his desk. He fires up the computers again, and she hears the muffled rumble of his music through the glass. He returns to his work, typing schematics and notes and formulas into the computer at light speed.

Pepper smiles, and heads up the stairs.


End file.
